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On Our Corner of Paradise
Posted On 02/16/2013 18:45:38 by Junie_PapaAllen
I wasn't able to go to sleep last night; finally managed to do so around 5:00 A.M. I couldn't get my mind off my son, Steve, back when he was a little boy. I kept seeing him in the little bib shorts I made for him. I made several in colorful prints in light-weight fabrics for summer. I also made them for my former husband's 2 grandsons. They were so cute! I was going to post a picture of Steve wearing a pair but I have so many albums to go through and just didn't feel up to it.
 
I miss him so much, at times! He was the best baby out of the three. Some might believe me to be partial but that isn't the care. It was probably due to the fact that I was one month short of being 28 years old. My other sons, Tommie and Gerry, were born while I was in my teens. By-the-time Steve came around, I believe, I had acquired more patience. As a result, I didn't have nearly the problems with his growing up years.
That's not to say I had a lot of problems with the other two boys for I didn't really. I was just simply too young and and didn't have that patience and expected everything to happen "right now." I'd since learned children need to have their own way of doing things in their own time. I guess this came from a mother who was that way.
 
Don't get me wrong. My mother was wonderful but everything had to be done the exactly the way she said. An example of that was when I was in my teens I couldn't and didn't dust mop a floor as well as she because I didn't hold the mop the same. Well, in my opinion I did as well. It was one of those times I over-looked. It was the same with my babies "schedule." Everything had to be "on time." I didn't have that problem by the time Steve arrived because, I believe, I arrived. I had started using my own mind on things and found I wasn't too bad, after all.
 
When I say my mother was wonderful it was, although she never spoke the words, I knew how much she loved me. She was always fixing my hair, sewing me little dresses, etc. In fact, when I went to junior high school she'd go to the city and buy women's clothing and alter them for me so I was as well dressed as the wealthier children in town. I didn't realize for many years, not until I was about 30 years old, that I had grown up "poor." Mom and Daddy never let my brother, Roger and I know that.
 
As a result of my mother's care I grew up taking good care of myself and wore very nice clothes, even if, they came from the goodwill. I could always find so much better clothes and shoes there than in regular stores and save money, too. Mom passed on always being well dressed on to me and I passed it on to Steve. Seldom did I ever see in dirty, ragged clothes. He did his share of dirty work work but he had a way to do it that left him still looking good.
 
When Steve started school he had to wear a tie! Hid father dug out his old Army tie and I altered for him. That's the way he always dressed. When he went to school for a few months her in my hometown the other high school kids called him a "fag." They even went so far as to break the lights out of his car! That's when he returned back home and school in Council Bluffs. His father would just have to deal with it! Because Steve did things his way the two of them often butted heads. It took many years before his father would respect him for his strength in character.
 
Steve spent his entire life working and living try to make his father proud of him for when he was just getting into his teens his father did one of the worst things a father can do to a child; called him a "loser"; not once but many times. I really believe it was stemmed from jealousy because he couldn't and didn't have the the accomplishment that Steve had. He didn't want to apply himself to anything whereas Steve always did and that's what made in successful in life and work.
 
It all comes down to seeing a fine young man that I raised and losing him far too soon. I will always feel the loss and the emptiness, even though, I have other children, grandchildren and most especially my very loving and caring husband, Papa Allen. I often think how sad it was that Allen wasn't the one who raised Steve but, then again, he may not have been as driven due to being accepted for himself.
 
I miss my son terribly! But I've also gone on with my life just the way I know he wanted me to. He'd be as proud of me as I was and am of him.
 
Have a great weekend, Friends!
 
Much Love, Junie & Papa Allen


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